Chess
by BlackInkStains
Summary: Ciel won't be controlled by the demon. He knows he holds the power over his butler. Sebastian, though, can't agree.  Oneshot


**A/N:** This fic is situated somewhere after Ciel and Sebastian have formed their contract (after the the chapters 62 and 63 of the manga), so Ciel is still ten years old. They have grown "used" to each other (if you want to say so).

Please tell me what you think of this!

**Disclaimer:** No, Kuroshitsuji doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Summary:** Ciel won't be controlled by the demon. He knows he holds the power over his butler. Sebastian, though, can't agree. Oneshot

**Chess**

The boy is sitting at the table playing chess against himself. Short legs are dangling from the seat's edge, petite feet not quite touching the floor. Fingers close around the black knight and move it across the chessboard. The dark glass piece absorbs the inpouring winter light.

A pause.

The boy draws his legs in, kneels on the seat and reaches over the board.

The door to his room opens. His servant enters with a tray and pauses mid-step. "My, Young Master", he says languidly, "I didn't expect you to be awake yet."

The boy, still in the middle of moving the white figures (a pawn), pauses, and then slowly – carefully – leans back, unfolds his legs and points his naked feet as if trying to touch the carpet beneath him. "I decided I wanted to get up a little earlier", he says.

(_I was having nightmares_, he says, _and I'm scared_.)

The demon regards him with a knowing (mocking) smirk but doesn't respond. Instead, he moves the tray next to the table and pours him a cup of tea.

Mismatched eyes follow every single move. "What's this?," he asks as the cup is set down in front of him.

"Darjeeling, Young Master", says the butler. He fetches clothes from the boy's closet and returns to a child completing the move from before.

(_Care for a game of chess?_, the boy asks. It's an order and they both know it.)

The demon turns the chair in which his master sits to face him and starts unbuttoning his nightshirt (the other is shivering from the cold and is unsuccessfully trying to hide it). The boy moves a black bishop. After he has dressed the child, the butler brushes a finger over the younger male's right eyebrow, intently looking at the seal. The boy looks back, silently demanding an explanation, but the butler merely hides the eye with dying sight behind an eye patch.

Then he moves the white queen.

(_Why not_? He shrugs elegantly and joins him. _I will humour you_.)

"Black would suit me better", he says.

A soft snort is heard. "Indeed, it does."

Standing beside the table, the butler waits for the boy to make his move. Small nails dig into the wood of an armrest. There is something about the way the butler holds himself that the child can't agree with.

(_Are you looking down at me, demon? This is not your position._)

"Sit."

(_You are not permitted to do as you please, Sebastian_.)

The demon takes a seat, still smiling. He watches the boy's fingers holding the knight and the smile grows.

The child is irritated.

"Does the eye still hurt, Young Master?" asks the butler. It only takes a pawn to eliminate the black knight, but the boy's mouth quirks, even though his features straighten very quickly after the question.

(_Do you think you can control me?_)

The boy who has anticipated the demon's manoeuvre(a sacrifice), moves his bishop dangerously close to the king. "Check."

(_Of course I can. You're bound to me. Therefore, I control you_.)

"It is better now", he says. His face is soft and beautiful, but his voice sounds strained, tense, slightly angry.

(_It hurts. It still bleeds sometimes, my tears are coloured in a faded red, my vision flickers and I don't want a blind eye. It itches and dries up and shrivels and it won't get better_.)

And back comes the smile. The boy knows he has done something wrong. Gloved fingers pick up the fallen black knight, twisting and turning the little piece.

"Make your move", demands the boy.

(_You are not permitted to do as you please, _he repeats_. You aren't free_.)

The butler regards the knight in his hand. He moves the white king in the line of the boy's bishop.

"Oh my, a Checkmate."

(_Believe me, I am_.)

A blue eye narrows. "I'm rather good at chess. You needn't help me win."

(_I won't rise to your bait, demon. I won't let you control me_.)

The smile won't vanish. "Pardon, Young Master, I simply thought we should end this game fast, for your breakfast is waiting."

"We should, but not this way." The child's voice carries the sound of offended pride. "I don't need your help to win." With those words, he takes the demon's queen.

The black bishop is eliminated in the next move, then one after the other, his second bishop, one rook, the queen.

The black king falls –

"You shouldn't have sacrificed that knight", says the demon as he rises to his feet. The boy is staring at the remaining glass pieces almost accusingly, incredulous, confused. The butler's lips are moving but he doesn't pay attention.

A hand touches his shoulder while another strokes the pale flesh of his cheek. Fingers skim over the silken eye patch and the boy can't contain the flinch anymore.

He can feel warm breath next to his ear.

"Didn't you hear me, Young Master?" His hand is being opened and two glass pieces come to rest. The black knight and king. "I said 'Checkmate'."

(_You _need_ me. Therefore, I already control you_.)


End file.
